


Mixed feelings

by Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Loneliness, M/M, Masturbation, Scents & Smells, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25392901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves/pseuds/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves
Summary: Mix has been out of town for a couple days. Amidst his loneliness, Mix's old shirt brings a surprising comfort to the poor, lonely man.
Relationships: Scrapper/Mixmaster
Kudos: 13





	Mixed feelings

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be using references given to me by my buddy @cookienerdzzz on tumblr! (Pls note Cookie only provided visual references of characters, and provided nothing in terms of its content. All dirtiness is mine, her humanformers are hers. With that, enjoy!
> 
> Visual links to their humanformers; 
> 
> https://cookienerdzzz.tumblr.com/post/188310791793/and-now-the-construction-boys-wow-did-i-have
> 
> Also links to the pet dinobots that i used in this fic!;
> 
> https://cookienerdzzz.tumblr.com/post/190509659773/me-and-needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves-talk-a-lot

What number was it now? Five? Probably. He finished wiping off the counter for about the fifth time that evening. If the kitchen looked any cleaner, he'd be blinded by the reflection. Dishes were clean, food was organized, tupperwear was put together. He peered from the kitchen to the living room, looking at his Snarl. Ever small, ever chubby, ever adorable french bulldog. Ever asleep as well, it seemed. He moved his gaze to his much bigger (yet still just as precious) Rottweiler, Grimlock. He was laying on the sofa next to Snarl, nibbling with his new bone.

"Grimlock! You hungry, boy?"

Grimlock gave him a look, reminding Scrapper that he had in fact, fed Grimlock three times today. And it wasn't even noon. He winced.

"Sorry boy, carry on."

He tapped his fingers on the counter, about to go bug Swoop, before recalling he was over at Arcee's for the weekend, keeping her company as she was feeling rather ill. Her husband was out with Mix for the weekend, helping in repairing some old hospital. It was sweet of Mix to volunteer, as well as Ratchet, but Scrapper still hated that he did. He left only two days ago, and was expected home tomorrow, but it felt like it had been gone for months. Scrapper stepped out of the kitchen, and looked around the living room. The floor was mopped (twice), everything was dusted, trash was taken out. The guest room was cleaned, as well as the pets room, the bathrooms were so clean you could eat off of the floor (Mix actually did that once. Meat lovers pizza), his garden was already tended to, his birdhouses were drying and couldn't be touch. He thought about eating something, but the notion of food didn't sound appealing. Mix wasn't even here to scold him for not eating, so what's the point?

"I...guess I could double check that our room is clean. Mixie deserves to come to a clean place to sleep, I bet he's tired."

Scrapper picked up his phone, a cup of water, and walked upstairs, into their room. Seemed fairly clean as it were, though he hadn't touched it at all today. He sat down on his bed, and scrolled through his contacts. There had to be SOMEONE he could talk to. He picked Arcee. Once dialed up, Scrapper felt so much relief at hearing her voice.

"Hello?"

"Arcee! Hey! Figured I'd check up on you and Swoop. He behaving?"

"Oh absolutely! He's been an angel, singing me sweet little tunes and doing little tricks. He's doing more for me than any medicine ever could. Thank you for letting me have him for the weekend."

"Course! Where's he at right now?"

"Oh he's right here, watching me cut up his fruit. Eager little thing. Here, I'll put you on."

Arcee put the phone to Swoop, who gave his usual squawking sounds. Scrapper gave a soft chuckle.

"Glad to see he's alright, I worry about him when I'm not there."

"And that's very sweet of you. Now, I don't mean to be rude dear, but me and Swoop are going to sit down for dinner right now, and you know there's no phones at the table."

"Right. I'll uh...talk to you later, then."

"Course! Have a good night, dear."

Click. Scrapper sighed, already mourning the loss of a voice. He scrolled through his contacts, and dialed up Bumblebee. Three rings, then nothing. Scrapper hung up, only to get a text from Bumblebee.

'Sorry man, on a date with a hot piece of ass. Is it an emergency?'

'No, it's okay, have fun 👍'

Scrapper sighed. Bulkhead’s phone didn't ring, and he recalled Bulkhead had an art exhibition that day with Prowl, so his phone would be off for the day. He dialed up Sari, and his spark fluttered upon hearing her pick up at the second ring.

"Hey, Scraps! What's up?"

"Hey! Just figured I'd call to see what you were up to. I was wondering if you wanted to go check out a movie or something, I'm totally free."

"Oof, sorry Scraps. I'm out with Optimus today, he promised he'd take me out to pick an outfit for later, I got a date with this REALLY cute chick, he'd agree to give me an opinion on what looks best."

"Okay, you picked OPTIMUS for that? No offense, he's a nice guy, but his fashion isn't...there."

"He agreed to carry everything. And in all honesty, he needed to get his head out of work, figured I'd work on his fashion sense with him."

"I heard that."

Sari and Scrapper chuckled at the interjection of Optimus. He took a hold of the phone, other hand falling on his hip.

"Making fun of my appearance aside, why is it you called, Scrapper?"

"I just wanted to see what everyone was up to! Pretty chill day here, honestly."

"You called because you were feeling lonely, weren't you?"

"I...yeah, kinda."

"I figured. Look, Scrapper, I'm sorry you're feeling lonely, it's an awful feeling, but as far as I'm aware, everyone is rather busy today. Jazz is out as well, something about a music festival."

Optimus got cut off as Sari said something off to the side, and his voice came back a moment later. 

"Er, if you want, I can come pick you up so you can join us."

"N-no, it seems like a real you guys thing. Three is a crowd and all. I'm fine though, really. I'm living it up here anyway, probably just gonna…sleep all day. Yeah. Didn't feel like going out today, anyway."

"I see. Well, rest easy. Call us if there's an emergency. We'll send you pictures of our new clothes, get your opinion."

"Sounds fun, I'll see you guys then."

He hated the sound of that dial tone. He wanted to call Mixie or Ratchet, but he could only imagine how much trouble he would've been putting them through. No more contacts. He sighed, and placed his phone on his nightstand, taking a sip of water. He took a moment to think, and decided to organize some clothes. Maybe it'd help the minutes feel less like hours. He peered into the drawers, frowning as he recalled he washed just yesterday. Right, he more or less did the exact same thing he did yesterday, so everything was spic and span. Scrapper swore as he bumped his elbow against the dresser, and it was then he noticed it. A stray shirt, tucked away behind the dresser. Mix must've just taken it off and nudged it out of his path. How did he miss that? He peeled the shirt out, and unraveled it as he sat down. He knew EXACTLY when Mix had last worn this.

"Just before he left."

He had worn this shirt for a good two days before then, he recognized this particular shade of brown. He looked it over, and thought for a moment. It wouldn't be weird if he was alone, right? He peered in the hallway for a moment, as if expecting someone to just magically appear. Surprise, no one did. He laid down, soothing his poor back, and brought the shirt to his face. He inhaled, slowly, taking the scent in. It was a smell Scrapper had grown to love; cake, sawdust, and beer. It was an odd trio of smells, but it was all Mix. It was so soothing, so relaxing to have that smell again. He squirmed a little, trying to get even more comfortable, and pressed the fabric right up against his nose. It was such a good smell. With his free hand, he pulled off his hair tie, letting his hair loose. Mix always did like it when he had his hair down. He wrapped the hairband around his wrist, and combed his fingers through his hair.

"It's not the same."

Mix wouldn't take it off like that. He'd run his fingers across his scalp, peel it off while they kissed. It was much better when he did it. He took in another breath, a deep one this time, and he swore his heart hurt. He missed his big, strong hands. They were firm, they were calloused, they were MIX'S. It was so unfair, not having him here to stroke his hair, not having him here to make fun of the little sounds he'd make. Not having him here, attempting to grope him at every opportunity. The amount of times he'd grope his-

"Hm?"

He looked down (which wasn't easy, his bust made his gaze very limited), and noticed he apparently missed Mix TOO much. He looked over at the doorway again. Mix would make so much fun of him for being so cautious. What WOULD he say right now?

'It's OUR damn house, why can't you just bust a nut?'

He was always so crude like that. He chuckled just thinking about it, and sighed. He wasn't exactly used to being this sort of needy, and didn't exactly know how to handle himself. How would Mix even do this? He thought about it for a minute, and breathed in again. It was such a nice smell. He winced however, feeling pain at his crotch. He undid his belt buckle, but stopped at his underwear. He hadn't done this without Mix, and he was confused about just what to do. He was thinking of just getting up, find SOMETHING else to do, but he found himself unable. Even his body missed Mix. One more inhale, and he knew he was done for.

"Dammit, Mixie...leaving me home alone. You're such a jerk. A big...stupid...big…"

Scrapper didn't even notice his hands working by themselves; rubbing at himself through his underwear, forcing his hips up a little. It wasn't the same, he was well aware, but he could picture it. He could picture Mix here, palming him like that, having the exact same smell he was smelling. His big hands would be trying to peel off his clothes like the perverse mech he was. He took another deep inhale, and he felt his body shake upon pulling himself out of the confines of his underwear. He didn't frag often, as his drive was lower than Mix's, but when he felt the need, it was a HARD need. Pun intended. Mix would've loved that. And Scrapper loved his laugh. He loved the way he'd laugh whenever they did something stupid together, the way he'd laugh at Scrapper's attempts to do more extreme stuff in berth (keyword being ATTEMPS). They were all kind, honest, loud laughs. He ran his hand up and down his length, feeling just a second of gratification. He wanted more already. He whined loudly into the shirt.

"What I wouldn't give to call you, Mixie."

It was true. He wanted to hear his voice. Wanted to hear his stupid, pervy jokes. Wanted to hear his little insults, wanted to hear the way he'd taunt him as he made him squirm under his hands. He remembered once, they were messing around in the living room, Mix had him pinned down during their 'rough housing', and he kept calling him 'pretty boy' as he was groping and fondling him. All with that big, stupid grin on his face. He was starting to find it a bit hard to breathe, with the way he was panting against the shirt. He couldn't help it though, finding himself only stroking himself faster at recalling the event. He was being so mean to him, and for some reason that REALLY got to poor Scrapper. Mix would definitely make fun of the sounds he was making with his cock; wet, loud, fast, and desperate. 

"I miss you SO much…!"

He felt his breath hitch, and while this was a bit foreign to him, he knew one thing; he was close. He took another inhale, and was immediately reminded of Mix's entire body. Mix was so beautiful; big, hairy, and genuine. He was so perfect in the way he announced himself; swinging himself around as if he owned whatever room he was in. He wanted to feel it oh so desperately. He wanted to feel his weight on him, he wanted to feel his presence. One thing he wanted most of all? To kiss him. He wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel those beautiful chops in his hands. Scrapper's back arched, and before he could prepare himself, he came, and he came HARD. It was hard enough for him to cry into the shirt, hard enough to feel his toes curl under him. It took a good minute for him to cool down, and when his eyes finally opened (he hadn't recalled closing them), he looked down. He came so hard, his cock was still throbbing, even amidst the rather large load that had formed at his hand.

"Ew."

He looked at the thick cum at his hand, and forced himself to sit up, grabbing wipes and cleaning up his hand. He gave a light swear as he saw the mess he made in his poor clothes. At least he finally had something to wash. He grumbled, his mouth feeling sticky, his hair feeling messy, and his body sweaty. He felt gross, but he simultaneously felt good. He sat there for a moment, looking at himself, then the shirt. He took another inhale, purely in longing, and he heard a whine escape his throat. He wanted more. He wanted whatever of Mix he could get. And he was going to get it, anyway he could.

\---------------

"The kid dresses you better than you dress yourself, I hope you know that."

"Hey, If you're going to make fun of my fashion, I'm not going to show you Sari’s selfies."

"Catch me taking you to court, I want custody."

They both shared a chuckle. Optimus and Scrapper were on the phone, and Scrapper was looking over the pictures of their little shopping trip. Sari was adorable in her new dress, and Prime actually looked like he knew what he was doing in his life. Scrapper combed through his hair, having just come out of the shower. 

"You hear anything from Mix?"

"No. I sent him a message or two, but nothing back yet. I-hold on."

Scrapper noticed his phone was buzzing. He read the caller I.D, and tried not to literally jump for joy. Mix! He tried not to sound too excited.

"Oh, he's actually just calling! I'll talk to you later, talk to me all about Sari's date next time!"

Scrapper hung up on him, and picked up on Mix's call. He took a deep breath, and tried desperately not to sound too giddy to hear his Mixie.

"Hey stranger."

"Hey! Sorry I haven't gotten to ya the past couple days, me and the old dude have been hella busy. Barely slept these past couple days, lemme tell ya."

"Well, you're doin' a good thing either way, and I'm proud of ya. If it helps any, everything is all clean and taken care of here. Even found the uh...shirt you tucked in the corner."

"Oh. Right, sorry, Scraps, I was just trying to get it outta my way. Listen, I called because I got a question."

"Shoot."

"I thought you said you fixed the damn squeak on the front porch?"

Scrapper raised a brow. That wasn't a question he was expecting.

"Uh, I DID fix it. Like, a week before you left."

"Bullshit. Go outside, step on the top board, its squeaks like a motherfucker."

"Mix, I'm in my robe, can't it just-"

"Nope. Now."

Scrapper picked up his phone and walked to the door. He peered out the window, seeing only darkness, and covered himself up a bit more. He opened the door, and there he was, the bastard himself. He chuckled, and showed he had a bag of food in his hand.

"Hey you. I brought some french-"

Scrapper couldn't help himself as he lifted Mix up, and immediately planted his lips onto his. The kiss lasted a good moment, before Scrapper pulled away, softly sighing. Mix cleared his throat, before chuckling.

"Dips. Was gonna say dips. Damn, someone missed me."

"You have absolutely no idea, Mixie. You have absolutely no idea."

Mix would've responded, had Scrapper not immediately dove in for another kiss. Not his fault Mix smelled so good. He HAD been wanting him all day.

And now he was going to have as much as he wanted.


End file.
